Be the Monster in Your Closet.

As a kid, Halloween was the day I used to dress up as an excuse to beg door-to-door. Kinda miss that. Apart from the snow anyway.

Later I would dress up as a matter of course, join a throng of like-minded fools, drink excessively, behave immorally and generally wild out. It's important to have those days set aside just so you don't snap one day and end up doing it all the time.

Always felt that Halloween was one of those days, but uniquely. The important thing is to get geared up as something that would otherwise scare the shit out of you.

I totally would, but on Columbus Day. Halloween is for scary shit.

Do what you want of course, but I reckon too many people miss the point of Halloween. Dress up like superheroes, playboy bunnies and historical figures. You can dress like people you admire any time, but I think it's important to set a day aside every year (more often if I had my way, but this will do) to swallow your shadow. 

Halloween means it's time to become the monster in your closet.

 

Funny thing about my costumes from childhood: I instinctively dressed up as things that scared the shit out me right from the first Halloween I can remember. I think I was maybe four years old. For some reason (or lack thereof, given the parameters of "kid logic") I entertained the delusion that the skeletal remains of deceased humans could reanimate. They would then go from house to house & steal the hands and feet of sleeping children who had not taken the precaution of making sure their own hands and feet were safely under the blankets before falling asleep. I guess I was naturally paranoid or whatever, but that isn't the point.

The first Halloween costume I remember wearing was a reanimated human skeleton. A four-year-old decides to dress up as the thing that scares him stupid at night. Hadn't even heard of Carl Jung yet.

Seriously? This freak doesn't even hold a candle to my childhood night terrors.

Later I would water it down, dressing as vampires or pirates or whatever, but I remember the purity of intention that went into the undead skeleton suit. I remember the cheap plastic mask & how it looked exactly like the thing I had in my head when I was trying to go to sleep at night. I wanted to scare the living Christ out of anybody who saw me that night, and the best way to do it was to look like the thing that scared me most.

I mean, if it worked for me, it would work on grown-ups, right?

But you don't have to be that kind of scary to pass inspection.

Generally I dress up as scary characters with whom I feel a certain kinship now.* I've gone as Frankenstein's Monster more than once and the same goes for Hunter S Thompson, and those aren't necessarily scary for the same reasons as some ghoulish thing that comes to take away vital body parts.

Witness Exhibits A & B:

Scary Monsters

Frankenstein's Monster is scary because he's a home-made superhuman gone horribly wrong, yes. He is motivated by revenge & kills people (men, women and children). He even stalks down his creator to kill him. But that's not the worst of it. The scariest thing about FM is that we are all like him in some way or another. We've all experienced rejection, all felt the urge for vengeance, all felt incomplete.

Many of us also have unanswered questions about our own existence. Seeking the answers to those questions can lead to some really disappointing answers.

And a lot of people just want revenge for being born.

An early role-model of mine.

Scary Humans

Thompson? Scary. First of all, he's scary because he's a journalist with an avowed dedication to seeking and reporting what is true (as near as he can tell).

Second, he's prone to hallucination (due to a prodigious dedication to drug consumption), which can interfere with one's perception of what is in fact true.

Third, he's an idealist (which can lead to anything from suicide to genocide).

Fourth (and perhaps most important), he's an armed ticking time-bomb of drug-fueled rage - an immediate danger to himself and others.

Rest in Peace, you weird fucker.

Spider

This year it's Transmetropolitan's Spider Jerusalem. Why is that scary? Because he lives in a virtually utopian world, but sees the underpinnings of that society as being rooted in lies & corruption. Can't help but expose the truth of this rather than merely accept a cyber-punk-ish earthly paradise. Some of the same reasons why Hunter S Thompson is scary (although Thompson had many more, and the list above is hardly comprehensive). But Spider's weapon of choice is way better.

Behold, the Bowel Disruptor.

Also, his name is "Spider." Lots of people think that's a scary name.

In conclusion, I just want to say this: You are of course free to use or abuse this - the most sacred of heathen holidays - any way you see fit. Just don't complain this Christmas when I neglect to recognize the "Reason for the Season."

Update/Correction: I forgot it was Monday today. My apologies if this messied up yer day.

*Other costumes devoid of this connection were worn because they were scary and I hadn't given sufficient time to planning (like the year I went as Courtney Love... Incidentally, I quit drinking the next day & ain't had a drop since).

Shorthand Mirrors

Looking at the universe by way of polarities is dangerous to your health. There are such things as Good & Evil, Positive & Negative, Black and White. That doesn't mean any of those pairs will explain everything.

But they will explain a few things. Everything in the universe seems hold up a mirror to everything else in the universe.

Water moves the same way sound does (based on what we understand about the two).

The movement of celestial bodies looks an awful lot like the movement of atomic particles (as far as we can tell).

Black and white can't be told apart without comparing one to the other. Ever look at a white surface for a little while and watch it turn black? Or vice-versa? Alan Watts tells it better.*

Men don't understand women, and women (despite claims to the contrary) don't understand men.

Good and Evil are mirror opposites, and often mistaken for each other.






Sorry. That looks like two of the same thing to me. 

All binary comparisons. All disregarding other factors, with varying degrees of obviousness. All incomplete and flawed, but also true.

In principle, I hate platitudes. It's another word for cliches. I also think cliches only got that way through overuse. You hear something enough times and it gets old. You hear something down the generations, and the meaning gets lost in the doctrine.

It's better to tell jokes than repeat commandments anyway.

So I've decided to write up some new versions of old jokes, all full of light and purpose. Tomorrow they will be old and empty. I'm only telling them in the hope that they will make somebody laugh. If one doesn't make any sense at a glance, move on. If it does make sense, feel free to repeat it until it withers & dies.

For the love of all that is good, don't take this seriously. Or do. It's none of my business.

The Proverbs of Duke

A guard dog barks first. A mad dog just bites. Both demand your undivided attention.

There is no depraved art. Only depraved artists or depraved audiences.

Good poetry shows you the doors and windows in the room, but leaves the corners dark. Bad poetry locks up & turns the room into a brightly-lit cell.

Talking to real people is a good habit. Talking about real people is an addiction.

No matter who they are or what they did.

Beware fat priests demanding sacrifice. Likewise thin statesmen bearing gifts.

When two cooks are working on the same soup, it's because they don't trust each other.

Evidence of wisdom and a lifetime of bad decisions often coincide in a single grey hair.

Bleach, hydrochloric acid and Coke are all composed mostly of water. That doesn't make them healthy to drink. 

Dissonance sounds good, if you are listening for dissonance.

Children have all the qualities of dogs, except loyalty and respect. I know because I used to be one. A dog, I mean.

Listening, Thinking and Speaking are all mutually exclusive. One thing at a time, and in that order.

Before wisdom, humility. Before humility, humiliation. Therefore, beware wisdom.

Hating the rain increases the likelihood that you will die of thirst.

An honest mistake becomes dishonest upon repetition.

And finally...

To err is human. To forgive is more human. To act like it didn't happen is cat.

That didn't... I was never here... Don't look at... Uh... I'm dead.

See you in another present.

*Incidentally, I love this lecture.

What's in a Name?

As it turns out, there are a few things in a name.




"A nose by any other name would still smell." - Warren T. Ratt

First off, it's something my parents took a long time to think about and decide. They didn't consult baby-name books, looking for the most popular boy's name from a time they wanted me to emulate. And thank god, cuz that would mean they wanted me to be a father to all nations... or as a replacement for somebody else.

Pretty sure they weren't thinking of this guy.

It's also a ground-in part of my identity. Every time I hear it or read it, I am overtaken by a surprisingly broad range of thoughts and feelings. The first is, of course, somebody's trying to get my attention; if not, then they're talking about me; if not, then they're talking about somebody else who has a name that - until recently - was kind of unusual.

And now it's everywhere. Thanks, Fox TV.

There's another side to all this. You might be surprised to hear this, but I used to be really negative. And this has a source beyond simple chemical imbalance. There's a question of chicken and egg here, but I actually think mental illness is triggered by some kind of catalyst in a person's life (more on this soon).

The point I'm getting to is this: When I hear my name, the fourth thing that comes to the front of my mind is, "Fuck, am I sick of hearing that shit."

For a lot of years, I heard my name spoken to me with condescension, derision, sarcasm, even hate. I don't know if it was warranted. Nobody ever told me why they used it like that. Why should they? It's part of the torment I guess, whether I deserved it or not.

After all, I always say "Children are dogs," and I was a child for much of that time. But anyway...

Even now, when I hear my name spoken - even with respect or love - I still hear the derision, and I still feel the same shit I felt when I heard it back then.

It isn't the fault of the speaker anymore, but I still resent them for it.

It isn't my fault, but I still feel dehumanized by it.

The solution is as simple as it is insulting to my family's efforts:

Change the name. And I'm about to.

There isn't really any question of what to change it to. A few years ago some people started calling me Duke, and I'm cool with that. There is a certain crooked appeal in carrying on the name for the alter-ego of that Great American Patriot.

Bet you thought I meant the OTHER Duke, right? The original Rooster? No?

Seriously. I'd rather be associated with the drug-fueled ravings of a potential maniac (may he rest in peace) than answer to a name that fills me with resentment and sadness. The combination can be surprisingly volatile.

It hasn't been all bad of course. I've heard my name spoken with love, respect, even admiration once in a while. And also under circumstances best left described as ...uh... It was fun. For some unfortunate reason, those aren't the moments I remember when I hear the name.

Back when my name was being poisoned, people knew me as a certain kind of kid. I've referred to this sort of kid before, so there's no need to go into detail. Point is, that was time enough ago that I am now a completely different person. My body has regenerated at least twice since then, and I've been through the proverbial mill enough to have much prejudice and naivete ground right out of me, along with the ill-founded opinions and beliefs that went with them.

The Mill. P.S. You're the tree, not the miller.

Most of those opinions and beliefs have been replaced by other (read: equally ill-founded) opinions and beliefs. These ones I can claim for my own though, since some of myself has gone into them, rather than the simple regurgitation of doctrine we all go through.

In short, these people don't know me anymore. I was never very good at keeping in touch, and I guess the same can be said of most of them. Through a certain social network, I've re-established contact with some old friends. We've had to get reacquainted, since I'm not the only one who's been through some changes. A few have not liked what they found with the new me. And I can say the same of one or two of them, who may have been free-minded and open people when we were kids, but who have somehow turned into what I was as a child. So forget em.

Somehow I missed the transition. What was the middle part?

Anyway, people are confused and put off when I ask them to stop calling me by the name they implicitly associate with my face, voice, sense of humor, etc. I can understand that. One of my siblings recently asked that we stop referring to her as "him." It was confusing at first, and constantly forgetting is frustrating for all parties concerned. And there's a name-change on the horizon for her as well. She might be looking at a much more comprehensive transformation some time. My point here is that I can kind of sympathize with my friends who are puzzled by my need to change my name.

And then there's my family. Parents in particular. I could tell their feelings were hurt when I told them. Like I said, they put a lot of thought into this. I took that apart in less than 30 seconds.

Every parent has to have this conversation with their kid. In some cases, it's the kid saying "I don't want to be a doctor or a lawyer or a priest. I want to dance/act/sing/paint." Sometimes it's "Mom & Dad, you know that person I live with who's the same sex as me? Well... We're not roommates." Sometimes it's a son saying "I'm not an outdoors-man, Dad. I like to bake and knit and stay at home with the kids." Or a daughter coming out with "Mom, I will never ever need to know how to crochet. I'll be too busy teaching archeology and digging up ancient civilizations anyway." Could even be something as simple as "Beer isn't my thing. I'd rather smoke weed. But thanks for offering." Yes, these conversations are still happening. By the thousands.

Nothing but love. Just saying, my parents got away easy.
This is a pretty superficial change in that light.

Maybe it's weakness on my part. All of this could be the result of flawed human perception, as seen through the window of mental illness.

You should be able to embrace & reclaim your own name. It's reasonable to think you can get over the past and move on with the present. You would think a name as cool as mine would be consolation enough. You might say "It's a great name. Carrying it on would be a tribute to both your ancestors and your namesake. You're going to confuse everybody who knows you by that name. You need to accept what you are and move on."

And you would be wrong. In a case like this, the objective reality doesn't actually matter. In a case like this, it's a question of one man's perception, and whether or not anybody has any respect for him.

In other words, call me Duke if you want me to reply.

If you don't care, call me whatever you want. Without malice, I won't pay it any mind.

I Don't Get It. So Why Do I Argue About It?

This article is dedicated to the work of Mike Godwin. Also to everybody who ever lost an argument because they brought up the Nazis.

Once again I have come to the sudden realization that I am a hypocrite. It never doesn't suck when that happens.

If you rail against religions, philosophies or ideologies you don't understand, so are you. Especially if you rush to the defense of things you do understand.

Example: Since my realization 11 years ago that I no longer understood the Roman Catholic Liturgy & attending doctrines, I have been careful - when asked - to make it clear that I had no bitterness for Christians or Christianity. It has been my belief that many people require a certain communal & spiritual guidance to get through the day. For a lot of people, that's Christianity in a nutshell.

More recently I have uncovered deeper feelings of resentment towards Christianity. I'm slow like that. Leaving aside the obvious problems with indulging in resentment, a distinction is needed here. It isn't the effects of Christianity on my life that I resent. It is the effect of my interpretation of Christianity that I resent.

By extension, seeing manifestations in others of similar interpretations of the same or other religions and/or ideologies really pisses me off. I think, "If even I can outgrow such a puerile thing, what is stopping you?"

There are probably numerous ways that person could ask me the same question. Seriously. I don't want to list them here, but they're numerous and varied.

I used to use a dismissive and superior kind of humor to (a) make myself feel more secure in my religious convictions, and (b) convince others that I was right. When I saw others doing the same thing in dismissing my beliefs, I got very righteously indignant. Because - as the American Supreme Court Justice A. Scalia likes to say - my beliefs were correct.

I've been particularly unfair to guys like this. Yeah he's a brash, arrogant, boorish prick. And so am I.

Hypocrisy, right?

In my defense, I was ignorant. Which is no defense. Not really.

Of course, leaving my interpretation of Christianity behind has freed me up to pursue trains of thought that were taboo. This - coupled with a new respect for (and understanding of) the reasoning process - has brought about shifts in what I believe about the nature of the universe, humanity, life, immortality, righteousness, and my duties to others. I have some apologies to make. Hopefully I'll figure out who is I owe them to as we go along.

Still, I find myself arguing with people about the nature of the universe, life, immortality, righteousness and one's duties to others. I also catch myself dismissing reasonable arguments with the high-horse-riding flippancy of a cynical and unreasonable dipshit. Kind of nullifies any valid points I might have.

Or maybe the argument made me think of something else and I thought for a second it was connected... Thanks to E. Alanen.

My brain (or mind or whatever) knows the right way to argue. Can you guess what it is? Never mind. The answer is "very slowly."

You already know what you believe about any given topic. You don't know what anybody else believes, no matter how well they may have articulated it. All you have is your own interpretation of what they told you. Saying you understand it is like saying you know what's in the ocean because you went fishing once, and pulled out a boot. So the ocean is full of boots.

I haz PRoOOF! Cee? Bpootz!

So when somebody tries to tell you what they believe, it's stupid to immediately argue your own belief, even if it's on the same topic. All they're going to hear is "There aren't any boots in the ocean. I went fishing once too," or "I know a guy who went fishing once, and the ocean is full of tires. Not boots."

And by extension, "You're a liar."

Maybe I'm wrong about this, but I think the argument would be more productive if we listen first, rather than just hear stuff and react. Take their word for it that they pulled out a boot once, and synthesize that with your story about the tire. That's how scientists eventually agree, from what I hear.

I just re-read that, and it looks pretty silly. A played-out cliche. The thought is bigger than the words I have to describe it. Or maybe smaller, and that's why the words are clumsy. To continue with the clumsiness...

So my brain knows how to argue. What's getting in the way? What could possibly keep a reasonable mind checked & nonfunctional?

As usual, in my case, it's the egocentric need to be right, and therefore validated. After all the progress my brain has made, there are still chemical reactions in the same brain that make me an unreasonable asshole.

Or put another way, the foundations of what I believe to be reasonable - when challenged - undo their purpose. Because I'm an emotional being before I'm a reasonable one. God damn, what a bummer.

There's probably a lot more in the ocean than what you pulled out of it. My guess is there's more there than the totality of what everybody has pulled out so far.

So... Keep the nets open I guess.

Or you're Hitler. Haha.

The Economy V The economy

If you like the way I usually juxtapose funny pictures with funny rants, today will be a disappointment. Gotta be serious for a minute. Woke up this morning with a special kind of headache - a hangover from Wall Street protests and a lifetime of binging on symbolism.

Most of what follows is pretty obvious. Actually all of it is. But after all the words, you get a picture at the end.

"Economy" and "people" are obviously not the same. "The Economy" only stands for how much wealth (not just money, but wealth) is changing hands at any given time, regardless of whose or how many hands are involved.

"People" is just people.

The purpose of the Economy is to serve the material needs of people, like the purpose of the Law is to protect people. The Economy can't do this if it is receding, or shrinking. Sometimes it can't do it when it is growing either, if that growth is channeled into the service of a few at the expense of many.

The Economy's health or recovery is irrelevant if people's lives are not improved. If the Economy is improving the lives of a few at the expense of many, it has become an instrument of oppression. And if the Economy is costing people their lives, it has outlived its use and needs to be destroyed.

Let's not make the classic mistake of thinking the symbol is the reality. This whole economic structure is an abstraction, a symbol for the exchange of goods and work for money. We call the exchange "Capitalism," another abstraction people commonly take for granted as a concrete reality. And the money is yet another abstraction - a symbol of wealth, i.e. goods and work.

Sure you can see and touch money in many cases, but you can see and touch a crucifix too. And what's a crucifix, if not a symbol?

When the symbol or the abstraction is mistaken for the reality, really important things are forgotten, with disastrous consequences. When "Freedom" takes the place of people's freedom, people are imprisoned or killed for the sake of protecting their Freedom. When "Spirituality" takes the place of spirituality, it becomes a set of turgid laws that kills the spirit. When "Law" takes the place of the law, the people it was meant to protect become its human sacrifices.*

Just think of the reasoning behind the American Major's decision in Ben Tre, Vietnam, to "bomb the town in order to save it." What is a town if not the people and physical structures in it? Same sort of thing happened there. Confused a symbol with reality.

I like to say that Capitalism is a Religion. It has all the hallmarks: rigid doctrine, revered doctors (i.e. writers of doctrine like Keynes), fanatical devotees, and people willing to kill for its ideals. Let's not forget the firm belief that it's the economic system of choice of God Himself... which could just as well be a thin cover for personal preference.

By Religion, I don't mean a community of people bound together by love or a common approach to spirituality. That's religion. I'm talking about Religion as the empty dedication to forms and structures that - without love as its source and destination - leads ultimately to its own nullification. But not before it damages people's lives.

(If you wanna have some fun with religious idiocy, click here).

Back to the Economy.

At the time of writing (10/01/2011), a CNN/ORC poll (which I hate to quote, but it's a good symbol) has just been published that announces "90% of Americans Say the Economy Stinks." I'm guessing most of them haven't even considered the philosophical implications of the statement.

Apart from the fact that it's physically impossible for a an abstraction to stink, I'm inclined to agree. The Economy stinks like food gone bad - to the point when it would kill the eater, or sicken with a whiff. Like a reanimated corpse that continues to walk around, ignorant of its condition.

Recession? Try collapse. Try whitewashed tomb. Maybe try looking something in the face instead of reading its name over and over and over, thinking that will expose its face. All this talk of invigorating the Economy will help no one. This Economy has outlived its use. What we're hearing now is the death-rattle.

Well? Are ya?

Don't get it twisted though. Symbols are good. I wouldn't be writing things out if they weren't. But these written words are symbolic of spoken words. Spoken words are symbolic of the ideas behind them, which are, in turn, interpretive symbols of the reality that shaped them.

Symbols only become harmful if mistaken for reality. Unfortunately you can only say "Reality." You can't say reality.

*And don't get me started on "Theology," literally "God-Word." How sufficient can human words be to reduce the foundation of the universe to a judgmental old man in the sky? We need a new word for it. But that's a whole other thing... One of my biggest pet peeves.

**Thanks to "montominco" for the zombie pic.